NFS: Most Wanted: The Novelisation
by Doccy Larsson Seraphim
Summary: Jack Lennox, famed racer from Bayview, is forced to flee when the police swarm the city and bust everyone who doesn't abide the law. Jack, in his BMW M3 GTR decides to go to the city of Rockport, as his last resort to go, where he can still race. But, when he is screwed over and loses his car, this isn't a matter of fun, now it's a matter of revenge. Revenge against Razor.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**AN: Hello everyone out there who might be reading! This is a novelisation of NFS Most Wanted 2005. I hope you like it. I really do.**

**Protagonists Name: Jack "Mobius" Lennox**

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Bayview. Once a haven for street racers, now under strict watch from the cops. The massive spike in street racing caught the attention of the Congress. They passed a law which would beef up road police, and soon, street racing activity plummeted all across the U.S. But not in Bayview.

The mayor of Bayview was a street racer himself, and therefor he refused to let the law enter Bayview. He held out for half a year, until he was forced to resign due to political stress. Then, the police swarmed into Bayview. Over 200 street racers were caught that night, and I was one of the lucky few that escaped with my car.

My car. Heh, my car was one hell of a ride. A BMW M3 GTR, in which almost everything was custom, apart from the body and interior. It shifted like a devil, and it outran everything in sight. As a rode along the road out of Bayview, I heard that terrifying noise. The noise of a police siren.

I immediately hammered it, and attempted to outrun the pursuing Crown Victoria. It wasn't hard, but as I looked in the rear mirror to check my six, I felt flashing lights in my eyes in front of me.

A roadblock. A goddamn roadblock. They were closing in on me from behind, so I took the chance, and went for it.

I floored it, and hit one of the Crown Victorias's boot area, flinging it out of the way, leaving my M3 unharmed.

I floored it, still being pursued along the road by three Crown Victorias. I saw a disused airfield in front of me, and I took the chance and went for it.

I drove off the road, and onto the airfield. The three cars followed, but one of the Crown Victorias didn't turn fast enough and hit a telephone pole. The pole wasn't harmed, but the car was out of the game. I drove into the hangar and pulled the handbrake, doing a fast 180. When the Crown Victorias arrived, I was holding still, my engine still running. As they stopped their cars and began walking over to me, I went for it, and revved the engine and zoomed forward, hitting both cars and flinging them into the air, hitting the roof of the hangar, and falling down unusable. I drove out as I heard the policemen discharge their pistols towards me. They didn't hit, fortunately.

As I got back onto the road, I thought about something. Where would I go? What would I do? I realized I had no answer to that. Well, I didn't, but at the same time, I got a message. The number was hidden, and the message had only one word: Rockport.

I turned on the GPS, and found Rockport. 50 Miles from here. Well, it seems that Jack Lennox is going to Rockport.

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**There you are, mates. Now, leave a review, or i won't be motivated to read anymore. It's annoying, i know, but that's the way i am.**

**Peace out.**


	2. Chapter 2: Cross

**AN: Well, here is Chapter 2. And i promise all of you, Cross will show up A LOT more than he does in-game. I did my best to be accurate, but please do be kind to notify me if i made a mistake. Anyway, i hope you enjoy the chapter.**

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As i crossed the bridge into Rockport, i immediately spotted a police car. He didn't go after me immediately, so I chose to drive carefully until he was out of sight before I went back to my usual tempo: going as fast as I dared.

I zoomed across the smooth pavement as I drove up on a bridge to an island. In the middle, it had a lighthouse, with the road parting in two around the lighthouse. I decided on taking the left, and as I began turning, I saw a bright-red Mazda RX-8 taking the right path.

Curious, believing it to be a street racer's car, so I sped up, and I was joined by the Mazda where the roads met up again. It had a carbon-fiber bonnet, and a neat rear spoiler, along with a tribal-style vinyl on the side.

It drove up to my left, and rolled down the window. Inside the car, sat the driver-a girl, with white skin, blonde hair, and seductively red lips.

She sped up and I followed, and I was surprised-her Mazda was faster than I expected, though I didn't really have any problems staying with her. She was good, but just not as good as me. My BMW had no problems keeping up with her, though she was impressively fast.

We blasted across the pavement as she tried to outrun me, as she turned into the shipyard, and I followed, the machinery and cranes creating some excellent and challenging corners, as we drifted all over the place, trying to best eachother, though I purposely let her stay ahead just to see how good she really was.

And she was good. She even had me in a pinch once, but I wasn't fazed. Darius, my old friend, always told me the same thing: _"Never lose hope-that's the first nail in a racer's coffin." _"Heh." Thinking back to Darius made me thing back to Nikki, my old girlfriend. God I missed her. She was a mechanic-the best mechanic even. Even though she was just 18 and I was 22, I still loved her. I even named my BMW after her.

I snapped back to reality as she drove up a small ramp and I followed, we both got air, as we landed back down on the ground, pushing crates out of the way of our cars.

As we turned towards the street, I was amazed by the bright lights, as we stopped by a four-way crossroad. I felt good, well, for half a second.

Because, in the corner of my eye, I saw a zebra-style painted Chevrolet Corvette, with police symbols and patrol equipment, zoom toward us and use the handbrake to stop in front of us. The Mazda reversed and drove away, but I had a building to my right, and more 'Vette to my left. I got busted.

The driver rolled down his window, revealing two persons, a white, slender female wearing sunglasses, and an African-American man, with a small, afro-like haircut, but short and rough. He was wearing sunglasses as well, and as he got out, he took off his sunglasses, and I recognized him. Sargeant Nathan mother-bleeping Cross.

I heard about Cross back in Bayview-a lot of street racers from Rockport that fled to Bayview had almost all encountered him. He was thought to be just an urban legend, just a fake alias people could blame. Or that's what I thought. Now I'd seen him drive, and how they said he drove were not lying. This guy was good. Really good.

He was whistling a tune unfamiliar to me as he walked over to my door, window down, shoving his Rockport PD badge into my face.

"Oh, did you pick the wrong street to run on!" He said to me, almost taunting me rather than just telling me my rights and putting me in cuffs; this guy was good, and he knew it.

He honestly felt more like a bully, picking on me like the old boys did to the new peeps. Only this time, you couldn't call for an adult.

He looked around the interior of Nikki, the name I referred to my BMW.

"This-…this is a nice car." He stammered, and I couldn't help but feel just a little good about that comment, even though I knew he'd impound it.

"Gauges, shifter, wheels…Is this all for show or is there something more I should know about?" He asked, even though he knew I was using it for street racing. Damnit, he caught me red-handed! Just go ahead and arrest me, for god's sake!

"…I'd like to take a peek…under the hood." Cross's assistant began, standing behind Cross, taking off her sunglasses. Oh, great. Now I'll have to get violent, 'cause I'm not losing Nikki.

Cross gave a light chuckle at that comment. "Heh, good idea." He said, turning back to me.

"Let me tell you what's gonna happen. We're gonna take your car. Tear it apart, and see if it's street legal." He said, with an almost devilish smile on his face. He turned back towards his assistant. "You know, I'd bet the odds that it ain't…get a Wrecker down here." He said, smiling at my infortune. I made a low, angry growl that Cross noticed but pretended to ignore.

"Looks like your racing days are over." His assistant said, going back to the car to fetch her walkie-talkie ot whatever they called the damn things. Never really saw a point in them.

"Let me let you in on a little secret." Cross began, and I could hear, feel and smell the sheer smug in his voice. "Street racing in Rockport is finished. I've got a beautiful little surprise that's gonna tear you guys up from the inside." Cross lowered his voice for the last bit, trying to spook me. Yeah. Like that's gonna work.

"Now get out of the car." Cross said, opening my door. I was ready to punch his lights out, no one is gonna take my Nikki.

I took a deep breath and prepared to get out of the car-when I heard Cross's radio turn on.

"Attention patrol division, units are in a high speed pursuit of multiple vehicles aggressively avoiding custody, units in the area directed to clear up to provide cover."

Cross's assistant began walking back towards their car, while quickly pointing her right finger at me and giving me an angry look.

Cross sighed and looked skyward. Then, he caught me by surprise, by quickly slamming my door shut, signaling that he would let me go, but not exactly willingly.

"Next time, you won't be so lucky." He said, in a low voice. I relaxed, and now I breathed normally again, until I saw him pull out his car key. He then walked back, and the bastard keyed my Nikki!

I heard Nikki whine as she was given a mean scratch from Cross. The bastard…

"Nice pinstripe." He said as he put his car key back into his pocket and walked back to his Corvette. One day, one day I'll give Cross what's coming to him. Let's see if he's still so smug when I wrap his 'Vette around a tree.

He spun a quick 180, and drove off towards the speeders he had to catch. I drove off as well, back into the shadow of Rockport's buildings. I found a Burger King, and got myself a Whopper. All that driving had made me hungry.

As I found a calm parking lot, I ate my burger calmly as I rested and I relaxed in my seat. When I finished my burger, I walked out and dumped the remaining junk into a trash bin.

I just sat there, breathing, and relaxing for half an hour or so. I pulled out a picture from the glove box, and on that picture, was me and Nikki sitting together on a public picnic table back in Palmont City's canyon road.

"Don't worry, Nikki. I know it's been 6 years, but soon, I'll be back. I promise." I said lowly to myself as I slid my hand slowly down across the picture, and a single, solitary tear of sorrow left my eyes.

I turned on the BMW's engine, and drove off into the shadows of Rockport.

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**Ending Comment: Thanks to everyone who reads this, and please leave a review, since that's what makes me keep writing. That, and if you send me munnies, which you shouldn't, since i'll end up using it on bad investments.**

**Peace out.**


	3. Chapter 3: The Blacklist

**AN: Heyo! So, i know it took some time to write this chapter, but i really wanted to give you guys a real treat to munch on. Delicious, right? Oh, and along with your reviews, ask me questions, and i'll answer the questions on the next chapter.**

**Enjoy**

**Doccy L Seraphim**

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**2 Days later…looking for a race…**

I was still rolling around Rockport, relaxing in my BMW, and I was REALLY in need of a race. It was like an itch, one that really did annoy the living crap out of me. I felt low and irritable, like the smallest thing could set me off. I was like a ticking time bomb.

In the two days I had now spent in Rockport, I had gotten pretty familiar with the surroundings. I felt like I was merged with the city, always knowing the fastest route to wherever I had to go. And it kind of felt good.

As I turned into what seemed to be a boulevard, decorated with French flags, I heard a familiar engine start behind me. The engine of a Toyota Supra, which roared up, made a quick 180, and drove up next to me. The driver rolled up his window.

The person I saw inside, was what I would call a punk. A piece of cloth covering his hair, black sunglasses, and what looked like a red sleeveless shirt. Classic punk.

He did the classic signal for challenging me to race- fingers like a pistol, pointed first at me, then at himself, then ahead. He did the signal rather neatly, so he wasn't a newbie.

I braked to slow down, and so did he, right at the same time. We both did it neatly, and both stopped perfectly neck-and-neck for the beginning.

"Heh. Like he's really going to beat my Nikki." I mumbled silently to myself, and rolled down my window.

"Wassup, poser? Does five grand sound good to you?" The punk said to me, with a smug expression on his face that I was just dying to wipe off.

"Ten grand. You choose the route." I replied, pulling out a sweet bundle of cash, and waved it in front of his ugly face. His eyes were completely mesmerized at the look of cash, so he was a money-lover. Probably got rich parents.

"You're on." He said, still with that smug smile on his face. Ugh. The punk handed me a small line of code, which made up a route on my GPS.

I only gave the route my passing attention, though. I was busy doing a wheel spin to warm the tires.

As both our engines roared to life, each of us giving each other confident stares, as we prepared to start.

I kept my starting RPM's neatly between 5 and 6 thousand, while I heard the punk clearly going into a lot more than that. He was going to make too much traction, and have trouble off the line. It'd give me an early lead; one that I intended to keep.

3…I felt my heart racing, like I always do when I race.

2… My thoughts went back to Nikki. I at the GPS, because right below it, I had fastened the picture of me and Nikki with tape to the small plastic gadget.

1… "This one's for you, Nikki." I said to myself.

"GO!" My mind told me, as the race began. The punk, as predicted, ended up with wheel spin, while I was in for a flying start, almost immediately passing him and taking the lead.

The first part of the route through Rockport was mostly straight, though the road was curved, so I had to turn a little, but not much. The punk clearly wasn't stupid, as he clung to my tail like a bad smell through the curve, but I still held the lead.

As we continued through Rockport, we ended up at the entrance to a traffic tunnel, designed to help the traffic flow freely, instead of creating bottlenecks by making crossroads. I actually looked forward to getting inside the tunnel; as a tunnel amplifies the sound from a car's engine to divine levels.

The tunnel was short, but I enjoyed it while it lasted. The sound of Nikki's engine in the tunnel was worth every penny I could lose.

As we came out of the tunnel, the road was dead straight. Here he had the advantage, and I had my work cut out in trying my best to not let him pass. He tried again and again, each time met with my bumper, though there were a close call or two. Still, I maintained the lead.

Now, we approached the first corner, and it was a sharp one. 90 degrees, with a solid building to all sides, with no corner-cutting possible. Now, if it was a normal curved corner, I would have just drifted through it, and at the same time denying him any way of passing me.

I saw the punk brake a little early, and I saw this as a chance for me to gain some ground, and so I braked hard, and drifted through the corner, and time seemed to slow as the tires screeched all the way through, as I almost went side-first into a building. I managed to barely hold the car through, but I came out of the corner with good speed, while the punk had to shift down a gear or two, allowing me to rocket ten feet ahead of him.

I hammered the nitrous as I got out of the corner to maximize the advantage I got from the corner, and rocketed ahead towards the S-bend that was coming up. But unlike the previous corner, this bend was curved and with a nice, wide road. Ideal for a spot of drifting.

Normally, I would have just drived through the bend without braking at all, but since I had a nice little lead built up, I decided that I'd drift through the bend to intimidate the punk a little.

It went seamlessly both ways, and as the road straightened out again, I had gained another five feet or so for my lead.

Now, I approached what looked like a bus station. Luckily, I had to turn right, and so I did. Again, a stroke of luck said that the corner would be wide, along with smooth asphalt to drive on.

A slight drift later, and I was through the corner, still well ahead, and with good speed carrying me along nicely along the road.

Now, the terrain began to descend, and a got a quick glimpse of what was ahead, a smaller S-bend, one that was far tighter than the previous S-bend, so I got ready to use the brake to get through the corner, as I saw the punk close in on me.

The S-bend went smoothly, and I didn't have to use the brake as much as I anticipated, though the Supra practically sailed through the corner, and was closing the gap fast, and I decided to use a fourth of my nitrous to make the most of the small straight road ahead before the next turn.

It did the trick, and I managed to strongly reduce the amount of ground he would have gained from the corner. Now, a nice curve to the right before a really vicious S-bend further down the road. There was no free rides there-one mistake, and I'd be ten grand out of pocket. "Not going to happen." I said to myself as I approached the bend.

The first part of the turn wasn't so bad, just a little correction took care of it, but the hairpin corner afterwards would take more than that. I stepped hard on the brakes and shifted down, drifting wouldn't help me here. And as I slowed down through the corner, the Supra managed to close the gap to only ten feet.

Another S-bend awaited me, one soft right and a hard left.

The right turn went rather well, though the punk managed to gain one or two feet there, but in the left turn, he managed to get right behind me, with the Supra's superior handling.

A small straight awaited me afterwards, and I was struggling to keep the punk behind me, and as we approached the final corner before the finish line, he managed to get ahead of me, but he reveled in that for too long, so he ended up going too wide, and I managed to get him on the inside through the corner.

As the small straight before the finish was there, I hammered it, and used all my remaining nitrous, and roared ahead, as I crossed the finish line ten feet ahead of the punk.

Now, as we arrived at the shipyard, I calmly slowed down as I approached a rather large group of cars, all well decorated, each with a driver to match. The Supra drove ahead of me and stopped, and the punk got out of his car. I remained in my car, and watched the events unfold from behind my sunglasses.

I heard three or four beeps, signaling car alarms, as the entire group of racers started walking towards me and the punk.

One of them, a rather muscular man, wearing a black tank top, and with tattoos all over his arms, walked up to the punk.

"What did I tell you?" He asked the punk, his voice clearly hinting at he wasn't happy with me winning. He was practically fuming as the punk answered.

"Razor, he shadowed me. I couldn't-" He began, but this "Razor", immediately cut him off, displaying his dominance.

"You shut up!" He yelled, pointing a finger at him, before turning towards me, with a seriously pissed off look in his face. He sure wasn't happy to see me here.

"Another bolt-on boy lookin' to get smoked?" He began, walking up to my car, with huge, HUGE amounts of smug and narcissism draped all across his face and voice.

"Why don't we save you the grief, and peel those parts right now?" He asked-clearly not knowing that if he as much as touched my car, I would rip him into shreds. All the other racers grouped up behind Razor, like he was their big man, their leader.

"Bolt on or not," I heard a female voice say from my left, and Razor diverted his attention to the voice. I turned my head as well, and was shocked at what I saw; the girl from two days ago, leaning up against her red Mazda RX-8.

"-That ride is hot." Right before she began walking over to Razor, she looked right into my eyes, and winked at me with her left eye. She was on my side. Good to know.

Well, I couldn't resist looking at her, in her clothes that didn't leave much room for imagination! She really did turn heads then. Oh yeah, she did.

She walked over to my BMW, and put her elbows on the door window.

"Faster than anything here." She then continued, and I felt rather good from that comment. The BMW was almost entirely custom, so of course it was.

"You obviously don't know your cars, sweetheart." Razor retorted. This guy's attitude was really beginning to piss me the hell off.

"I know your ride doesn't have a chance." She retorted back, as I began looking across the cars strewn about. One that caught my eye was a Ford Mustang, black with fire vinyls. That was probably his. In a straight line, we'd probably be neck and neck, but he wouldn't have a chance in the corners. I've driven a Mustang before, and I know that for a fact.

Razor chuckled in response. "My sixty-bud quarter mile. Whatever you wanna throw on the table, smokes anything here. Including this pump-gasket car."

"Well we're your punk money, then?" She responded sharply.

"Five grand. Five grand, says my boy'll smoke this clown." Razor then said. So he's a coward as well, I thought to myself.

"What's your boy got to do with this?" She responded lowly.

"I ain't racin' this nobody. And I ain't takin' orders from some chick who just rolled onto the scene." So it was a matter of respect. I could understand that.

"Yeah." The punk began. "This here guy, is the number 15 guy on the Blacklist." Razor turned towards me, giving me a smug glare.

"You gotta lotta rep to earn before you get to roll with him." The punk finished, himself giving a smug glare.

"Thanks for the update." She answered to the punk, clearly being sarcastic. "Are we doin' this or what?" She then asked Razor.

He flicked his fingers, and a man wearing a blue T-shirt bent down towards me. "I got 'im." He said, as well with a smug look on his face. What was this place, Smug City?

I saw two guys converse, probably making bets, and two women, one American, the other Asian, silently chatting about all this.

"Why don't we make it…ten grand." She then asked Razor, and I could see that she was confident in that I would win. I kind of felt good by that.

"Oh, you wanna amp this up?" Razor retorted. "Let's do it right." As he finished that, he pulled out a phone, and pressed three numbers. 9-1-1.

"Yeah, get me the police. We got a couple 'a guy's going to street race down here at the shipyard, so you better get the cops right away." I actually wanted to thank him. Now, everything would get a lot more interesting.

"Maybe an ambulance too." He then added, while glaring daggers at me. He closed the phone and packed it away, as everyone else got in their cars and drove off, while my opponent, got into a black Mercedes SLR McLaren. This isn't going to get easy, I thought.

He then walked over to my car, and began: "When he's through with you, I never wanna see your face again." He said, as him and the girl went to their cars and drove off, while I lined up to start with the SLR.

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**Closing Words: Yeah, this is almost TWICE as long as the previous chapter. Now, i must go and wipe the sweat off my brow.**

**Peace Out**


	4. Chapter 4: Mia

**AN: Apologies for the long wait, i had a few things to do in my spare time. Anyway, i really do hope that you enjoy the new chapter.**

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As the waiting SLR's engine growled, I slowly drove up next to it, and took a deep breath. He opened his window and gave me a line of code. I punched it in into my GPS, and the route was clear.

The BMW was more than a match for an SLR, I thought as I began to rev my engine.

As we prepared, I kept between 5-6000 RPM, and the SLR did the same. This guy wasn't stupid.

3… I breathed in deep, bracing myself.

2… I stretched my neck, and cracked my knuckles in preparation.

1… "Here goes." I said.

GO! That annoying voice in my brain went. I wished sometimes that he'd just shut up and let me drive.

We were both fast off the line, though I barely nudged myself ahead of the SLR. The road that was coming put me at a disadvantage. It was a short, up-hill straight before a wide left turn. And the SLR was right in position to block me there.

I decided against it, and used some Nitrous to get a little extra much-needed acceleration to get ahead of the SLR as we approached the corner.

Normally, I would drift through the corner, but seeing the SLR close in on me, I didn't want to lose too much speed, so I decided to just go with the corner, turning normally, keeping my speed level.

My trick worked, and with the speed I retained, I began to pull away from the SLR. Next was an up-hill right-hand turn, one so steep, I'd halt the car if I drifted, so I had to turn normally like before, but the sharpness of the corner meant that I'd have to shift down, and that meant that the SLR would catch up.

A stroke of luck kept me in first, but the SLR was ready to pounce at any moment to get me, left or right? I didn't know.

Another lucky stroke said that the next turn was to the right, so I could drift a little, retain my speed and block a potential overtake. "Thank you, God. Thank you." I murmured to myself, as I approached the corner with the SLR losing ground behind me.

It went okay, but it could have gone better. The road wasn't wide enough for me to drift, but I kept my speed nicely high as I got out of the corner. But then, I saw a sight no one wants to see. An RPD Crown Victoria. Damn, Razor wasn't fooling me.

As I and the SLR passed them flying, they both turned on their sirens and began pursuing us. I wasn't fazed; I had a race to win, and a rep to build.

The highway we had entered began to ascend, and I was kept on my toes by the SLR. The driver was good. Really good. But as he made an attempt to overtake me, one of the Crown Victorias made a PIT maneuver on the SLR, forcing him to abandon his attempt for an overtaking in return for regaining control of his car and not spinning out into a wall, costing him the race. I felt pretty good as the road evened out again, having gained 50 feet or so from the SLR.

By now, the road was straight, offering the SLR an opportunity to catch up, if he wasn't too busy dealing with the cops. I didn't care, because it meant that they wouldn't bother me, or so I thought. As I roared along the straight line, I saw another Crown Victoria. And it swung right, getting right in front of me and blocking my path. I was annoyed, so I pulled the brakes and swung left, getting up on the side of the Crown Victoria, and then turning left to smack the CV with such force that it flew into the air and over the guard rail that secured the sides. The sound of the body of the CV bending and snapping as it hit the ground below felt surprisingly satisfying as I continued to roar down the highway.

Ahead was a smooth right-hand turn, big enough for four vehicles, but not sharp enough for me to drift through it, so I had to just turn normally, while I saw that the SLR was having trouble with the cops. "This is easier than I thought!" I said loudly to myself.

Now, the highway opened up, but according to the GPS, we had to drive off the highway and onto the streets. I took the shortest route, the right lane, and the SLR followed me, and we were leaving the cops behind. They weren't going to give in that easy, though.

Well, what I thought to be normal streets turned out to be another wide highway where we could lose the cops. I drove as fast as I could, with the SLR breathing down my neck, and the cops not far behind. I looked ahead, and I saw a rather large amount of flashing lights.

The small crossover where the highway crossed the normal streets, the buildings had loads of sharp and beautiful lights. Normally, I would have just looked at them shortly, but this time, they obscured another source of light. The lights from a RPD roadblock. Crap.

The street ahead would be easy to drive on, if there weren't a goddamn roadblock in the way. I breathed in deep, and quickly examined the roadblock. It completely covered the road, but I saw that two of the cars were arranged boot-to-boot. And as we all know, the boot is the area to hit. So I used a fourth of my nitrous and rammed the two, flinging them both far, far away, creating a massive hole that the SLR drove right through as the RPD CV's stopped to help. Now, it was just us two.

I reveled in my victory for too long, though, and I didn't notice a really sharp 90 degree turn ahead, and I by instinct hammered the brakes and drove around the corner. That cock-up meant that the SLR was closing in on my BMW, and I wasn't going to let him pass, that's for sure!

I was forced to use another dash of nitrous to get back to speed and prevent the SLR from getting too close. If I hadn't reacted like that, I would probably have gone the wrong way, or ended up right into a building, which I didn't want to. Partly because I took out the BMW's airbags, and partly because I'd lose 10k. So I did what I had to do, and went for it.

The street ahead was narrow and straight, and I took the chance, and put my foot down to gain as much ground over the SLR as I could as the road became increasingly narrow ahead, and rain began to fall.

I remembered the next part of the route, I had driven the same path with the punk. Through the smooth left-hand corner, and through the small tunnel, and luck was on my side-the finish line was right after the tunnel!

I pulled the handbrake, and made a stylish victory over the SLR, which arrived a second later. I got out, and the sheer amount of cars around us was…impressive. I saw a Toyota Supra, a Porsche Cayman S, a Lamborghini Gallardo, and a Mercedes CLK 500. But in front, was a black Ford Mustang with flames on, and the letters RZ on. "Probably Razor's ride." I thought to myself as I rolled down the window.

The lightly clothed lady in the Mazda RX-8 walked over to my BMW.

"Hey. Nice racing out there." She said.

"Yeah. So, where's the cash?" I asked, maybe seeming a little keen.

"Here." She said whilst smiling, handing me a blue bag. Inside was 10.000 dollars.

"So, could I get a ride?" She asked me, winking with her left eye.

"Sure. Get in." I answered. It was the least I could do for her, seeing as thanks to her, I just earned myself 10 grand. She opened the door and got in, and I roared up the engine, and did a 180 away from the drivers. In the rear-view mirror, I saw Razor talking to the driver of the SLR. He was yelling.

"I never got your name." I asked.

"It's Mia. Mia Townsend."

I gave a very short chuckle. "Jack. Jack Lennox." I said as I dodged a semi.

"I see you've made good friends with Razor." Mia said sarcastically.

"Yeah. We'll see if he's so smug when I leave him in the dust." Mia laughed a little off that.

"I doubt he'll even see it."

I chuckled a bit at that.

"Well, this is here I go." Mia said, and I stopped the BMW.

"Will we meet again?" I asked.

"Of course. Later." She said, opened the door, and got out. I roared up the engine and zoomed away. I rifled through my newly earned cash, and felt pretty good. Heh. It didn't last long though…

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**AN: I'll tell y'all right away; don't excpect the next chapter to come out tomorrow. But i will make it, i promise.**

**Peace out.**

**PS: Oh, and Alex, stop spamming the damn reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5: Rog

**AN: Hello again, readers! I'm sorry this took so long, but i had some things to take care of. I'm not giving up on this story though, not as long as you all keep reading, favoriting and following. I promise you all that. So, without further ado, enjoy!**

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**Two days later…**

**Winning races…building rep… **

Two days of underground racing helped me relax. I felt like I was in the game, like I was on the road to become a big shot here. I had just accepted an invitation to a circuit race through Rockport, and I was told that one of the bigger drivers would show up. I felt like I could take down anyone.

But my strange sense of fulfillment was interrupted as I drove out of the underground and into the streets. By my phone. The caller's name was "Rog". I didn't have anything else to do, so I picked up the phone.

"Well, look what the underground let loose." "Rog" said over the phone, as I saw a heavily modified Pontiac GTO come up from behind, that I assumed was him.

We both drove up to the starting point, revving our engines for the off.

"Let's see how good you do in the daylight." Rog finished and hung up.

"Challenge accepted." I said quietly to myself as I cracked my knuckles in preparation.

As all four cars revved up, we began making a thick cloud of smoke behind us as we warmed up our engines for the off.

I, as always flew off the line, taking an early lead, with Rog bearing down on me as we left the other racers behind.

Our cars made a small hop over the small climb, though the reduction of weight in my car made it go a bit further than the others.

As we drove through the area with the buildings with big neon signs that I drove through when racing the SLR, but this time there weren't any cops to worry about. I had Rog for that. He stuck to me like a bad smell through the straight as the other two cars went further and further behind us.

Another small bump in the road, but it was too smooth to jump, so we just drove up it, and Rog used the inherent extra muscle in his GTO to tighten the gap between us. He clearly knew what he was doing.

The wide twisty road through Rockport allowed me to gain a bit on Rog, since I knew my BMW was far better at cornering, but I didn't gain much, only three feet or so.

But better three than two, as I used a bit of nitrous to gain a bit more as we approached our first real corner, and it was sharp alright!

I hit the brakes and sailed through, Rog was forced to use his handbrake though, and slowed him down on his way out of the corner. The short twisty road ahead only made it better for me, as Rog was beginning to fall behind.

Ahead was my old enemy, the S-bend. This time though, I had the advantage, and I sailed through it elegantly, as the river flows elegantly through a dense forest.

But as I looked in my rearview mirror, I saw Rog gaining on me-fast. He was good, and as we got out of the S-bend, Rog was right behind me, and it was a battle to keep him behind.

I was too focused on keeping Rog behind me, that I didn't notice the corner coming up. Rog braked and went through it nicely, but I had to really slow down, costing me the lead. But I wasn't going to give up. Not now.

As we roared through the streets of Rockport, I constantly stayed right behind Rog's slipstream, waiting for the perfect moment to pass him. We zoomed left and right to avoid the traffic, and Rog held his lead, but I stuck to him like gum as we approached a tunnel.

Rog took the left side in, and I followed him. The traffic was light, but we still had our work cut out for us through the tunnel.

The route led us through a small park, and I saw a jump halfway inside. I took my chance, used all my nitrous, and hammered it through.

As we flew through the air, I inched ahead of Rog, and quickly turned left towards the finish line. We were neck and neck, taking and losing the lead what felt like hundreds of times, as I pushed a button, and used my secret weapon-a custom-built turbo charger.

The sheer power was insane, and my taillights were but a blur to the others as I rocketed ahead and across the finish line. 10k to my account. Heh.

As I finished checking that the money had been transferred cleanly, I began driving away a bit more slowly. I needed some rest.

I heard the roar of Rog's GTO drive up beside me, and my phone rang. It was Rog. What now, going to tell a lame excuse for losing or accusing me of cheating? Well, I was wrong. Twice.

"Good run. I like your style." He said, with an unusually calm and humble voice. Definitely something you don't see a lot of in Rockport.

"Thanks, you aren't bad either." I replied. He sure was, he was one of the better drivers I had met.

"Thanks. Just watch yourself around these guys, alright? See you 'round." He said as he hung up and drove off. I looked ahead and saw why- a familiar black Mustang GT.

Just as Rog hung up, Razor called me. Oh god, not this guy again.

"What's up, poser?" He began. For some reason, I felt like punching his lights out. Maybe I should once I beat him.

"I'm glad you're puttin' it down out there, I really am, 'cause I can't wait to get a crack at that ride." I didn't know what he meant.

"What, didn't anybody tell you?" He answered to my silence.

"You gotta put your ride on the line to run against a Blacklist member, and that, is most people aren't stupid enough to do it." Yeah. His Mustang would work nicely as a trophy when I've beaten him.

"I'll be waiting." He said as he hit the power and roared off. Finally.

The drive back to my motel was like a blur-far too long, but felt like a second. My body was worn, and I was tired almost to sleep when I arrived to the motel. I parked my BMW, ensured every door was locked, even the boot, and then I went up to my room to get some sleep. The sun had gone down by the time I was in my room, and the only light came from the moon, shining faintly into my room.

I plummeted onto the bed, it feeling impossibly comfortable. But something was wrong. This Razor guy, something was just off. I couldn't stand that feeling.

I just wished I was back in Palmont, with Nikki. I was just a small-time racer, back then. A guy with too much ambition and skill. I remember back when my father died. He was a street racer too. He died trying to escape the police.

When he was gone, Darius took me in. Taught me. Gave me a car. And let me loose. I was making more than enough money to sustain both myself and my car. And I was happy.

But I guess, nothing really lasts forever.

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**AN: So, there you all have it! I know that i'm not the best writer at dialogue, but i'm doing my best to portray Jack as the ambitious racer with a bad past. Remember to review, favorite, or even follow if you like!**

**Peace out. DLS**


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